


For She Had Eyes

by Eirenne Saijima (ladypoetess)



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Age Difference, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Self Confidence Issues, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypoetess/pseuds/Eirenne%20Saijima
Summary: How does a mixed blood changeling woman learn to reconcile her world, her doubts, and her desires for a nerdy pureblood?Spoilers for events up to book #11, and set between books #12 and #13.
Relationships: Walther Davies/Cassandra Brown
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katayla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/gifts).



> With grateful thanks to [Vae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vae) for Shakespeare assistance, and to [Tedronai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedronai), [Karios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios), [tigerbright](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerbright), [dapatty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapatty), and [karaburrito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karaburrito) for invaluable beta feedback!

> _Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw  
> _ _The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt,  
> _ _For she had eyes and chose me._
> 
> \--William Shakespeare, _Othello, Act 3, Scene 3_

"I don't know the rules for this sort of nonsense," I muttered as I shuffled through papers on my new desk in the royal knowe. For all that I looked to be doing my new job as the Chatelaine for the household and court of Queen Windermere in the Mists, when I found myself studying the same patch of dust on my desk for the third time, I knew I was hopelessly distracted by an altogether too familiar problem: men.

One man, in particular, though I'm not quite yet ready to let that fact slip past my teeth to anyone, not even my little sister, Karen (who surely already knows anyhow, thanks to her ability to walk in the dreams of everyone around her): Master Walther Davies, tenure-track chemistry professor at my mortal university and lately court alchemist for the Queen in the Mists. There are a lot years between us; enough that, had we been mortals, we'd never have known one another, for the human lifespan flares bright and too short by far for that. But I'm an adult in my early 20s, so even by human standards I’m old enough to make my own choices when it comes to lovers, even if growing up constantly brushing against those same human standards makes it a little uncomfortable to think about how much older the alchemist is than me. I think it's less than the difference in age between Toby and Tybalt, but still. It's a lot of years.

On the other hand, he's a pureblood, so having more than a hundred years between two people is probably nothing at all to him, right? And also, he's _a pureblood_. I, on the other hand, am a weak, mixed blood changeling, more than half human with little bits of Nixie, Hob, and Barrow Wight mixed into the balance of my blood. The magic I possess, the ability to see the truth in the movements of the air? I don't know where that comes from, since I've never heard of housekeepers who can see the future, and strong, shapeshifting fae who are said to live in burial mounds, likewise. The Roane exist, so I know there are sea fae who can tell the future, but I've never heard of Nixen being soothsayers. It's part of what I want to learn: I want to study magic and where it comes from, and maybe I'll figure out why a couple of mixed blood changelings who should have been just barely stronger than the thin-blooded ones who rely on faerie ointment to even see through illusions could end up with such strong seer abilities.

And that doesn't change the fact that Walther Davies is a pureblood Tylwyth Teg. While, okay, yes, we both work in the royal court, _I_ was raised in a changeling home, with two changeling parents, far away from any of the nobility, while _Walther_ was raised in a royal household. Not in line for a throne, admittedly, but still expected to be adjacent to it. How am I supposed to be a modern woman, make the first move, ask for what I want, be assertive with my needs and desires, and whatever the newest phraseology is for asking a guy out on a date or back to my place, when we were practically raised on different planets? He was always born and raised to live in the world we are both in now, and I... wasn't.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," I muttered and stood up too quickly from the desk, sending one precarious pile of papers plummeting to the floor at my feet. I closed my eyes and counted to ten before bending and cramming them all back into a stack and putting them -firmly- on the desk again. "’Translate for me’, she says. And yet, somehow, I'm still trying to figure out how to organize household schedules and when the laundry gets done."

Maybe a walk would clear my head and let me focus on actually trying to do the task before me, instead of fretting about a man who I wasn't even sure was likely to be interested if I managed to decipher how to make my interest known to him. I excel in my university physics classes; figuring out how a household cleaning and laundry schedule works cannot possibly be more difficult than that. I checked my watch. _Well, if the walk doesn't help I can always talk to Madden when he gets home from the coffee shop in an hour,_ I thought. It's not like he hadn't been juggling all of both positions for months before Arden drafted me; surely he could explain the parts of mine that I didn’t yet get.

When I got back to my desk, the papers were neatly sorted and stacked, the various bits of office supplies were straightened into tidy rows, and the dust I'd been idly studying earlier was gone from the decorative carving along the edge of the desk. "It is a different thing altogether, living in a household with pureblood Hobs than it was growing up with my dad," I mused aloud. Sure, Dad liked to keep things tidy around the house, but he never took it to quite this level.

My parents weren't what I'd call thrilled when I announced I was moving to the royal knowe, but they both agreed it made sense. I wouldn't need to drive as much if I was living at court, between the drastic reduction in my commute between my quarters and my job, and the ability to have someone teleport me to campus, or to my parents' place, or to wherever I'd parked my car when I needed to get to classes. The purebloods probably don't think much about the effects of climate change, but for all that we're still fae, changelings are mortal, too, and it still seems like an urgent problem to us, maybe even more than to the humans. Most of them have a hard time conceiving of things that will happen after their natural lifespan, but we aren't just expecting our children and their children to live through these things; we know that we're going to be living through them, ourselves. And it's not nearly as enticing a prospect, when you have mortal blood, to just shrug and retreat to the Summerlands full time. And besides, with me primarily living at the royal knowe, that meant a little more breathing room at home, and the chance for my little brothers to have separate rooms if they wanted them.

I checked my watch again. It was close to the time Madden should be getting back from his mortal job -- I couldn't quite think of it as his 'day job' when, one, it was the closing shift at the coffee shop, and two, he was the Seneschal of the court and that seemed to really like it should be the one to trump the other -- and I wanted to figure out what I was doing with this schedule before the night really got going. I'd just take another quick walk outside and get some fresh air before he got in, then I'd sit down with him and figure this out. That way, maybe I'd get some actual work done before dawn and possibly even have some time to study, as well.


	2. Chapter 2

I could hear the ringing of the rest of the pixie flock in the trees before I could otherwise see or hear what I assumed must be Madden getting home. I'd had a good long walk among the trees, three adventurous pixies following along for company and, I think, to make sure I had enough light that I wasn't as likely to eat a face full of loam if I lost my footing. Maybe it's because of Toby's odd history with the small fae, but they seem to spend more time around the changelings at court, and mostly not causing trouble beyond some harmless pranks. It's like they feel a kinship to us and are trying to protect us in their own little ways.

Whatever the reasoning in their minds, I was just as happy to have the bobbing bits of blue and yellow lights that darted about in front of me, while one with green light perched on my shoulder and rang soft bell tones next to my ear. I felt clearer and more able to focus after the exertion of the walk through the mortal forest. The Summerlands forest on the grounds of the knowe is incredible, but it doesn't smell right when I walk there. The air is too light, too thin, somehow. Auntie Birdie says it's the lack of an industrial revolution, and I think she's probably right. Even Walther doesn't like to run gas-powered generators in the Summerlands, and he's a scientist as well as an alchemist, so I figure the pollution in the air is the biggest difference.

I hurried back toward the park trails I'd left behind on my walk, following the sound of the greater pixie flock as much as the bobbing lights of my escorting trio. If I could just get Madden's undivided attention for a little bit before he got busy with his other seneschal-y duties, I'd have a better shot at getting the information I was looking for. Dogs, even fae dogs, are both intensely focused and distractible as all get out.

I nodded to the guards at the door to the knowe, the green pixie detaching themself from my shoulder and winging toward the rest of the lights glowing in the trees before I stepped over the threshold and into the knowe and the Summerlands...

Where I stopped dead in my tracks. All the focus I'd gathered on my walk shattered in a pretty mental shower of sparks as I saw the man standing in the entrance, chatting amiably with Arden and Madden.

Walther Davies.

"Oh, root and branch," I swore under my breath, before pasting a smile on over the trilling anxiety now humming under my skin to step forward and greet the people who were, basically, my bosses and coworkers.

"Good evening, your Highness. Hey Madden. Hello, Master Davies." I curtsied as I greeted the Queen, and offered quick smiles and nods to the two men. I tried to pretend I didn't see the little bemused wrinkle to Walther's brow as I greeted him. Time for dealing with that later. "How goes the night?"

Arden rolled her eyes at the formality but didn't comment on it. "Madden just got home, and brought Master Davies along when he'd stopped in for some coffee just before the cafe closed. I understand he's got some alchemical work that he needs to do in the Summerlands proper, rather than in the mortal-side environs of his campus office."

"He figured it would be easier to get here if he just hitched a ride with me," said Madden with all of his usual gregarious good cheer. "That was fine with me, since he doesn't mind if I drive with the windows down for the wind.”

Walther chuckled. "The chill of the wind doesn't bother me. Toby insists that all Tylwyth Teg must be self-defrosting. And besides, I can always take the yarrow broom express home when I'm done.”

"Or you could make use of your chambers here at the court," interjected Arden mildly.

"Indeed, Highness, I could." Walther offered a shallow bow in acknowledgement of her gentle rebuke.

I saw my opening. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want to keep Master Davies from the work he needs to get done. And I need to talk to you, Madden, if you have some time tonight."

"Oh sure, Cassie. Just let me get out of my uniform and grab a snack and I'll come to your office, okay?" Madden was already shrugging his backpack off his shoulder as he talked.

"Sounds great." I smiled and turned back to Arden, offering another curtsey. "Your Highness, if you'll excuse me?"

At Arden's nod of dismissal, I all but ran toward my office. I think caught a fleeting glimpse of Walther's bewildered expression and a barely outstretched hand as I fled, but didn't acknowledge it.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Madden got to my office, I was more or less focused enough to go over the schedules and figure out why I couldn't figure them out. It took less time than I expected -- it turns out that not knowing a person's organizational system makes reading and using that system really difficult. Once Madden explained all the specific ticks to his system, it was easier to read, and moreover, it became something I could easily convert into my own system. If I was going to be Chatelaine, I was going to do the job my own way. I had everything laid out in the old system and ready to be converted to my new system when my stomach declared it was definitely lunchtime.

I stretched and rose, leaving my desk relatively neat but with a small note requesting that papers be left as they were -- I didn't want to come back from the kitchens only to have to redo all the work I'd just done. A quick walk to the kitchens (and a greeting to the kitchen Hobs) took me to the pantries I'd seen on my first visit to the knowe. I opted for some roast bird of some kind, but otherwise made a sandwich much like the one I'd shared with the Queen that first day. This brought my thoughts back to the conversation we'd had over our lunch that day, and I winced. She'd known even then that I was interested in Walther, but that was before I was entirely aware of just exactly who and what he was.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with what he is -- I attend a mortal university, it's not like I've never encountered transgender people before. Most of the human trans folks I've known would have killed to be able to remake their bodies in the way that suited them best, the way that Walther had done. I've never really asked him about the specifics, because  _ wow _ , rude much? But rumors get around, particularly after everything that happened in Silences, and the way communication opened up after the overthrow of the Pretender King. What Walther's body was observed to be at birth doesn't have any real bearing on who he is as an adult, and so I've never really concerned myself with it.

No, it was that whole ‘raised in a royal household to be part of the royal retinue’ thing. It was just  _ different  _ when he was only a pureblood fae professor who occasionally got his life ruined by Auntie Birdie, and who hung around mortals and changelings and purebloods alike.

I shook myself and stood up, brushing any lingering crumbs of my sandwich from my shirt. My fingers twitched to pick up the plate, but I resisted the urge; it wouldn't do to insult the people who worked for me (such a weird thought) by implying that they couldn't do their jobs.

"Milady Chatelaine?" A Hob girl was standing a bit off to the side, on a stool, chopping some kind of orange vegetable, and since she was the only one looking at me, I figured it had to be her that had spoken.

"Yes?"

"Will you be dining with the Court tonight, ma'am?" The knife never stilled as she talked, even though she hardly looked at the chopping board.

"Yes, I will. Please let her Highness, the Queen, know." I stifled the urge to tell the girl not to call me 'milady' or 'ma'am', because again, offensive.

"Yes, ma'am." With that the girl's attention was back on the vegetables and the knife.

I'd need to work out a schedule for when I did and did not eat with the court. My parents would kill me if I didn't spend at least some evenings with them and my siblings, and to be honest, I didn't really want to put that much distance between us anyhow. I was still thinking about what days would be best for dinners at home when I left the kitchen and headed for my office, not paying a ton of attention to my surroundings.

So when I rounded the first corner, I collided hard with someone and fell backwards with a squawk--

\--only to have someone catch my arms and keep me from landing in an undignified sprawl in the center of the corridor. After a second to regain my balance, I looked up to see who my accident/rescuer was, and into the concerned, piercing blue eyes of Walther Davies.

Ah, hell.


	4. Chapter 4

"Cassie, root and branch, are you okay?" Walther's voice was colored with concern, and this close, I could smell the faint whiffs of a winter forest, what I associated with his magic, and I breathed in deeply. Auntie Birdie says everyone's magic is very distinctive, like magical fingerprints, but I can't always smell the differences. But Walther's smells like forest wildflowers if they bloomed in winter.

"Hey, talk to me Cassandra, are you okay?" Walther's voice held a touch of sharpness in the concern now, and I realized I'd not actually answered him.

I straightened up and felt his grip loosen, though not let go entirely. "Yes, yes I'm fine, I was just not paying attention. I'm so sorry I slammed into you like that, Master Davies -- are you okay?" I took a half step backward and he let me go.

"Me? I'm fine." Walther's eyes, which had tightened as I spoke, were still searching my face. "What's going on, Cassie? What's with this 'Master Davies' stuff lately? And have you been avoiding me on purpose? Did I do something wrong?"

"Why would you think that?" My thoughts were racing. I did not want to be having this conversation right now, in the middle of the hall of the royal knowe.

As if to illustrate that point, a pair of Hobs with tools for dusting high places or intricate carvings passed us, offering quick nods as they spoke to one another.

Walther followed my gaze to the Hobs and seemed to understand my reticence to talk about personal things. "Are you going home to your family tonight?"

"No, I'm staying here at Court. I was asked to dine with the Court tonight, and that tends to end later than I'm comfortable being out between here and San Francisco." That wasn't strictly true, but it was close enough. And I definitely did not want to be caught out going from Muir Woods to San Francisco that close to dawn.

"Perfect. I'll be staying to dine with the Court then, as well. Can we talk after dinner? Your quarters or mine, or I can come to your office, if you would rather." Walther's expression didn't change, but his voice was firm.

I couldn't just refuse to talk to him, but I didn't know what to say. After a few beats of silence too many, I said, "Yeah, sure, I'll let you know at dinner, all right?"

"Fine, I'll see you at dinner." With a final, formal nod, Walther was gone.

I sagged against the wall. _"Great,"_ I thought to myself, _"now what exactly do I want to have happen next?"_


	5. Chapter 5

The hours between lunch and dinner were busy, with the head of the kitchen staff _and_ the head of the laundry _and_ the head of the household cleaning staff each coming to work out the schedules for their respective domains, giving me not only a clearer idea of how often things had been getting done, but a convenient list of all the staff in those areas. I'd still need to talk to the staff responsible for groundskeeping and maintenance, not to mention the craftspeople who made the decorative bas relief panels in the knowe, the clothing for the queen, the livery for the servants and upper staff, among others. For that matter, I'd need to start _wearing_ livery, I supposed, but for the moment my jeans and blouse would have to suffice.

As if the sartorial thoughts had summoned him, the older Hob man who I knew handled general household wardrobe issues poked his head around the door. "Is this a good time, milady Chatelaine?"

I smiled and shook my head even as I said, "Yes, of course, Cavan, please come in."

"Oh, I don't need to sit and talk, I just wanted to let you know I'd taken the liberty of setting out some clothes for you to choose from for dinner tonight, since I know you've been too busy today to spend any time fussing over your own self." His kindly face was made more welcoming by the smile he wore, and it took me a moment to realize what he was saying.

"So... my jeans don't pass muster for dinner with Queen and Court, hmm?" I chuckled. "Of course, I'll take a look at them. Are they in my room?"

"Indeed, ma'am. Laid out on your bed, though any you don't decide upon but want to reserve for future use you can surely keep in your closet, if you like, until you develop your own wardrobe here in the knowe." He bobbed a nod and withdrew.

Oh, root and branch. How am I ever going to figure out how to do this dance around the nobility?

As Cavan had promised, on my bed lay three dresses in the royal colors. They weren't in the style of livery, exactly, but they were also not exactly court formal in the way that the nobility dressed. These were not fanciful gowns made of bark or flower petals or evergreen boughs, but simpler things made of cotton, wool, and linen, but with a sleek, twilled silk lining that made them something a step or two above the common servant's garb.

I picked up the woolen dress and was delighted at the softness of the it, and even more so the pair of leggings with just a touch of silver embroidery along the outside of each leg that lay beneath it. It was coming on to winter, and it gets cold here along the coast. And while yes, I grant that my perception of what is 'cold' is probably calibrated differently than people from other places, I was still glad to have some warm clothing options if I couldn't keep my own wardrobe.

Another benefit to the garb of upper level servants is that it's basically designed to be put on without help. That meant it took only moments to pull on the leggings, slide the dress on, and fasten the soft, indoor boots that seemed intended to work with any of the outfits Cavan had left for me. I used a trickle of the hearth magic I inherited from my dad to quickly do up the buttons on the boots, as I didn't actually know how to _use_ the button hook that would otherwise be required. The grapefruit and turpentine smell of my magic was just starting to dissipate as I began to fret about what I should do with my hair. Then, out of nowhere, some of the pixies that roved about the knowe came ringing into my quarters. A green one -- possibly the same one who had spent the length of my walk perched on my shoulder -- flashed past my head carrying something that caught the light and began tugging at my hair.

"What is this, Cinderella?" I laughed as a blue pixie whizzed past on the other side, apparently going to help their friend. When they had stopped whatever it is they were doing and hovered, ringing, a few feet away, I walked to the mirror to see the results. There were simple, delicate silver chains, strung between thin braids in my hair, accenting the black tips of my otherwise loose hair.

"Yep, this is definitely like Cinderella." I smiled at the pixies in the mirror. "This is lovely, and it goes with the outfit perfectly." The resulting bell chiming seemed pleased and the pixies retreated from my room just as quickly as they'd come.

Well, it was time for my first dinner with the Court as a member of that court, Maeve help me.


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner with the royal court turned out to be a much smaller affair than I was envisioning. Arden was there, of course, with Madden clearly seated next to her at the high table, though no one was actually sitting yet -- was it still a high table if it wasn't a formal event? Lowri was standing with Arden and Madden, chatting with the Crown Prince, Nolan, which made sense for the Captain of the Queen's Guard; of course she would be seated with the upper echelon of the court. It looked like there were two other places at that table, though only those three were currently standing nearby. There were a few courtiers near other tables, though not as many as I guessed there would be in a few years, after the court had been truly established and had gained more full time members. I'd learned today just how many of the servants were still on loan from other local fiefdoms, and where I was going to need to recruit for hiring on for ourselves.

I was still standing in the doorway, puzzling over the arrangements in the dining hall, and where it would be appropriate for me to sit, when I felt the warmth of another person standing near my right shoulder.

"First court dinner?" asked Walther.

"How could you tell?" I muttered, not turning to look at him. "I don't even know where I'm supposed to sit."

Walther's answering low chuckle caused me to turn my head enough to see him. "What's so funny?"

"You're the Chatelaine of the Court, Cassie. That puts you on an approximate level with the Seneschal and the Captain of the Guard, and means you sit at the high table with the Queen and the rest." Walther was still smiling, though he wasn't looking at me. "For that matter, I suppose I'm counted among that number now, as the official Court Alchemist."

Oh. Of course he was. "I see," I said. "Should we walk in together, or will that be, um, weird?"

"It's still a small court, enough so that I don't think anyone is going to comment if we're seen talking as we come in to dinner." Walther finally turned and looked at me, his eyes a captivating, piercing, unearthly blue now that they were covered by neither illusion nor unneeded glasses. "You look beautiful, Cassie. May I escort you to our table?"

I looked at the offered arm he extended for what seemed like an age, but was probably really only a few seconds, before I felt myself blush as I reached my right hand out to lay it lightly on his arm.

This was, thank Oberon, nothing like the spectacle that Karen had described to me that she'd witnessed at the conclave. Walther and I walked to the high table and greeted our... well, coworkers and boss. For however much this was also a bizarre, regressive feudal society, I knew for a fact that Arden paid her people well, though most not as extravagantly as it felt like what she was paying me. But then, I guess I was something like upper management in this set up, so it tracked to have a difference in wages. Our pureblood Changeling Queen knew what poverty was like, and she made sure that none of her servants had to worry about affording to eat or sleep warm and safe, even on the mortal side of the valley.

"Did you get everything worked out today, Cassandra?" Arden's eyes were twinkling with mirth behind the fancy goblet that held her wine. "I know you had a number of meetings today."

Was it my imagination or did her eyes flick to Walther for an instant when she spoke the last?

I narrowed my eyes as I spoke, "Not everything, Highness, but I believe I'm well on the way to getting it all sorted out appropriately."

"She's doing real well, Ardy. You were right to pick her for Chatelaine." Madden's perpetual good cheer was evident, even as his words made me blush, yet again.

"I'm glad, Madden," Arden's smile for her seneschal and best friend was entirely open and happy. "And what of your first day as Court Alchemist, Master Davies? Did you find a suitable suite of rooms for your work?"

"Indeed, Highness," Walther nodded respectfully in the direction of Nolan. "The prince thought he remembered where your father's alchemist had worked, and graciously offered to help me find that suite of workrooms. I found them to be well appointed and kept under preservation spells. I will begin cleaning the spaces myself soon, as I don't know what sort of safeguards may have been left by the prior occupant."

Nolan returned the nod with a smaller one of his own. "Marianne used to have to chase me out of the old Master Alchemist's workroom, and it was a simple enough endeavor to find it again."

"All it required was for his Highness to sit down occasionally to get the bearings of his child-self back and we were able to find the proper door." Walther chuckled behind his own wine glass as Arden laughed at the ruffled-feather expression on Nolan's face.

"As the old alchemist would scold most harshly for anyone opening a portal into his workroom, I learned then only to visit him by means of my feet, not my magic," Nolan huffed as Arden's laughter grew.

Before it could progress to further needling of the prince, Lowri interjected some comment about the new guards she was training, and the overall conversation turned to general matters of the court. As the meal progressed, I found myself relaxing in the easy conversation. There was still some measure of distance between the queen and prince and the rest of us, with the possible exception of Madden and Arden, but it was a much smaller distance than there seemed to exist between Arden and almost anyone else. It had to be lonely, being a queen. Everyone sees you as a title and a throne and a means to an end, or as just some part of the political game, for good or ill.

And here I thought the mortal politics I was always running into on campus were bad. At least those political players aren't separated by the sorts of feudal divides that still exist in Faerie, and running afoul of an opponent isn't likely to get you turned into a tortoise for half a century or something.

As I looked from one person to the next around the table, it struck me that they all looked to be of an age with me, but most had at least a hundred years or more on me. Arden and Walther, for sure. Madden and Lowri I was less sure about, other than that I knew they were both older than the early twenties they appeared to be. Nolan was probably the closest to me, in a way. For all that he was close in age to Arden, he'd spent the last eighty years asleep and not doing any more maturing or changing from when he was truly an angry young prince in exile. I was definitely the only one among the court who was truly as young as she looked, and so lacked the life experience of almost everyone else here.

I was also the only one specifically without any significant experience of any kind in a royal court. The queen and the prince were raised in a royal court, if not openly acknowledged. They still learned all the etiquette and how to be who they were. Walther had been raised alongside the heirs to Silences and had always been intended to be part of a royal court, even if he'd taken a hundred-year detour from that after the War of Silences. Lowri had worked in the False Queen's court, and before that had also been part of the court in Silences. Madden, well, okay, I didn't actually know if Madden had been part of a royal court before this one, but the Cu Sidhe had been companions to monarchs for a long time, so it seemed likely he had. In the face of this collective experience, sitting here at this table? I felt like a fraud.

The more I wallowed in my thoughts, the more I could feel my magic trying to rise. The faintest bits of the grapefruit and turpentine smell tickled my nose, bringing a comforting familiarity to the situation. Belatedly, I realized the others might wonder why I was calling my magic at dinner, and I started using that tiny bit of power to clean up a spot on the tablecloth where two drops of wine had fallen. I was so focused on what I was doing that I didn't notice that the conversation at the table had wound down as the final course of the meal was finished. It wasn't until Arden stretched and pushed back from the table that I brought my attention back to the world outside of my own head.

"It's getting late and I am ready for sleep," Arden's statement was punctuated with a yawn she tried, and failed, to stifle. She continued as she stood, "I'll come by your office tomorrow to chat Cassandra, after my morning public court, all right? Good night, all."

A chorus of "good night, Highness" followed her, and that was then followed by everyone else standing and offering their farewells. It wasn't long before it was just me and Walther standing near the table, with him quietly studying the area around what had been my place at the table.

"What is it?" I asked. There was nothing there, that I could see.

"Nothing at all, actually," he replied dryly. "No spills, drips, or smudges to show that setting had been used. Why, in comparison, her Highness's place at the table looks like she had one of the arkan sonney babies in her lap for the meal."

"I was a little nervous!" I said defensively. "Using hearth magic is soothing."

"I see," Walther's tone was softer now. "So, you said we could talk after dinner. Have you decided where you are most comfortable doing so?"

I hadn't even thought about it while we were eating; I'd forgotten all about the fact I said we could have a talk at all, honestly. Blinking, I said, "Uh, my office is closest, let's go there."

"Very well; lead the way, milady Chatelaine." Walther's nod and gesture for me to precede could have been mocking, had it been anyone else. From him, though, I couldn't read them as anything but sincere.


	7. Chapter 7

We passed a few servants on our way from the dining hall to the Chatelaine's office. Concerned as my position was with the domestic aspects of running the royal household, the office I was given was in the general area of the main kitchens, the laundry, and storage rooms for all the cleaning supplies needed for a knowe this size, without being precisely  _ in  _ any of those spaces. During the most active parts of the night, that meant there was always a buzz of activity and noise nearby, with my office a bit of calmer quiet in the midst. Now, so close to dawn, with just the diurnal staff beginning their work doing the cleaning that can't be done with endless people underfoot, it was quiet enough that I could hear our footsteps on the redwood floorboards. My boots made a soft sound, mostly obscured by the  _ whish-whish _ sound of my dress, while Walther's steps landed more heavily, but without sounding like he was stomping intentionally.

I entered the office and brushed my hand over what passed for a light switch, keeping the level low enough to keep the edge of things softened for me. Walther probably wouldn't have needed the light at all, but with how much human blood I bore, I did need it. I noted absently that whoever had been tidying up behind me all day had straightened up everything on the desk except the things that still had my note resting atop them. Well, good.

I heard the door click shut behind me, and I turned, leaning one hip onto the edge of the desk. "So what would you like to talk about, Master Davies?"

"That, for starters," Walther's voice was tight. "When did I stop being 'Walther' to you, and become someone you use formal titles and protocol with?"

"We work together now, don't we? It seems appropriate to give you the same respect I give to the other members of the Court." I knew I was reaching, but I couldn't tell him why, not really.

"In a formal setting, certainly. There are times and places for titles and protocol and I'd never begrudge you in those circumstances. But we're alone, Cassandra, and you don't have to stand on ceremony now." Walther ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "You didn't even use mortal titles when we met at the school, or when I asked you out for a beer. Did I do something wrong? I just want to know what's changed."

I stared at him for a long moment, unable to find a way to phrase the thoughts that had been chasing themselves in circles all night in my head. Finally, I dropped my gaze to my hands and said quietly, "I don't know how to do this."

Walther stood still a long moment, before leaning against the arm of a chair and saying, "Do what? Be a Chatelaine?"

"Well, no, I don't know how to do that either, but that's not what I meant, exactly." I twisted my fingers together.

"Then what do you mean, exactly?"

"You're, well,  _ you _ . I'm not."

"Yes?" Walther's answer was drawn out and confused. "That's good, right?"

"I don't mean it that way," I sighed. "You're a pureblood, which I knew from the start, and I'm a changeling, which you knew from the start. But that's not the biggest difference."

When he didn't respond, but simply stayed still, waiting, I continued.

"You already know how to do," I gestured helplessly around me, "all of this. It's all natural to you!"

"And it's not to you," finished Walther quietly. "Dealing with nobles, and more than that, dealing with royalty."

I looked up then, surprised, and met his eyes. I nodded.

"You never had any reason to know the protocols and etiquette of a royal household, Cassie. Did you fear I'd think less of you for the lack of this highly specialized knowledge? Walther's tone was serious, but had a slight lilt of teasing at the end.

"Maybe," I admitted.

"Until Arden decided to pull you in to be her walking, talking, human/fae Google Translate, I'd have said your brain was better served by physics and other science knowledge, and I might still say that," Walther's voice was definitely teasing now, but gently and without cruelty. "But knowledge lacked can be gained. Just because I grew up alongside the Yates children and learned the etiquette and points of protocol right along with the alchemy my parents taught us doesn't mean you can't learn those things, too."

His eyes were so full of understanding that I couldn't keep looking into them, and I glanced away as I spoke.

"I'm the youngest member of this Court, and the only changeling, and I don't have the time that the rest of you have to learn all the things I might someday want or need to know," I shook my head. "I barely even know what I'm doing with this aeromancy gift, I don't know where it came from, or why someone who is more human than fae could possibly end up with a gift like this. I want to know those things, and working here can help me learn them, someday. I like Arden, I genuinely do, and I want to help her succeed as Queen in the Mists. But if being around Toby has taught me anything about Fae politics, it's that any perceived weakness will be pounced on and used against you."

"Ah," said Walther, understanding in his voice. "And you think that you're a perceived weakness that will be used against Queen Windermere?"

"Yes," I said unhappily.

"That makes sense, and you're not wrong to be wary of that kind of political attack, truth be known," Walther said. "But that doesn't explain why you suddenly pulled away from me. Is it because when I was born-"

My head snapped around to glare at him, "Don't even think that. What do you take me for?" I made a disgusted sound and shook my head. "There are multiple groups for transgender students on campus, so even the purely mortal are familiar with the idea and finding ways to cope with it in the absence of a magical means of making things match up. No, Walther, the particular configuration of your body when you were born versus what it is now does not affect my feelings one way or the other."

"That's... that's good to hear." Walther smiled. "I mean you saying my name again. The rest is good, too," he continued when I furrowed my brow at him.

"In all seriousness, Cassie, I don't pretend I know or completely understand your worries about this situation, but I'm not going to laugh at you or make light of them, and I'd like to help you find solutions to them, if you'll let me." As he spoke, Walther stepped closer to where I was still leaning against the edge of my desk. "I will say that I really liked where things were trending before we were both dragged into the local administrative structure, and I'd be sad to see that trend disappear without a solid, evidence-based reason."

My face felt hot all of a sudden; it must be the wine from dinner. I took a shaky breath and glanced down again, seeming unable to take a deep enough breath while looking into those unbearably blue eyes.

"Cassie..." Walther's voice was low, almost husky, and with two fingers under my chin, he lifted my face so he could look into my eyes again. "Please?"

It felt like my breath was fluttering in my chest as I nodded and straightened from my leaning posture, my lips meeting his a fraction of a second later as the fingers that had held my chin slid lightly, teasingly along my jaw and throat to cup the back of my neck, Walther's thumb caressing the side of my neck in a way that made my knees weak.

I gasped, my mouth against his, and I reached my arms around behind his neck and pulled myself closer to him as he kissed me deeper and I could taste the ice of his magic in his kiss.

I let this go on for a few seconds more before I broke away, reluctantly and pulled back to look at him. There was confusion and the beginnings of hurt in Walther's expression, but I shook my head as I stepped away.

"No, I'm not rejecting you," I leaned over and turned off the light in my office, and reached for the doorknob. Before I turned it, I looked into his eyes, willing my expression to be as clear and open as I could make it as I said, "Walther Davies, would you come to my room this morning?"

A slow smile spread over his face, lighting up those unsettling eyes, and he executed a courtly bow with a flourish I'd never seen before, saying with absolute gravity, "As milady requests, I am honored to oblige."

I opened the door and held my hand out to him. Walther extended his arm and laid my hand into the crook of his elbow, every bit the courtier I was not. As the door slid shut behind us, I used a flick of hearth magic to lock the door rather than stopping to use a key.

I had other things I had chosen to focus on.


End file.
